


How (Not) To Build A Haunted House

by my1alias, SkreeBat



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Art, Aziraphale is a bastard, Crowley is so in love, Crowley talks to his plants, Established Relationship, Haunted House, M/M, Scary Movies, this fic is not scary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my1alias/pseuds/my1alias, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkreeBat/pseuds/SkreeBat
Summary: It's Halloween after Armageddon't, and Aziraphale is looking forward to celebrating with a spooky haunted house! Problem is, Crowley doesn't think that Aziraphale understands what "spooky" means. Is it going to break Aziraphale's heart when no one is scared?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: ABSFZ Halloween Good Omens Works





	How (Not) To Build A Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

> I teamed up with the uncomparable [Skreebat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkreeBat/pseuds/SkreeBat) ([Tumblr](https://pacific-melody.tumblr.com/)) for this fic, which was published in A Big Spooky Fan Zine 2020. I had a lot of fun and really enjoyed being a part of this zine!
> 
> Thank you to all who betaed this. I should have kept track and I apologize! You were all invaluable.

The late evening autumn air was crisp when Crowley and Aziraphale left the cinema. Crowley thrust his hands into the pockets of his coat and shivered as the wind swirled leaves along the path in front of them.

“Oh dear, you were more affected by the motion pictures than I thought!” Aziraphale fussed over him. “Did you really find them that terrifying?”

Crowley rolled his eyes so hard that his body followed suit. “Angel. These _movies_ are so old that their concept of ’scary’ are only horrific in how dated they are.” He tucked Aziraphale’s arm through his as they fell into step together. “I’m shivering because it’s _cold_.”

Aziraphale pouted. “Well, I thought the movies were remarkable. Very… bracing!”

“ _Creature From The Black Lagoon_ is _not_ bracing. Let me show you something more recent… _Get Out_ , or even _Scream_ … Ooh,” he twisted towards Aziraphale, “ _Alien_! Now _those_ are scary movies!” Crowley shuffled his feet, kicking up leaves. “They have the building blocks of the perfect scary movie - darkness, anticipation, and surprise. You want to build up the anticipation until the unsuspecting victim is tense with anxiety before the surprise appears. Otherwise it’s just a let down.”

“I think perhaps that you have been jaded by your more recent movies,” Aziraphale mused.

"Or, you know, Hell. War. Armageddon," said Crowley sarcastically.

"Hush," Aziraphale said patiently. “The picture we watched tonight had all of that. Just because you anticipated the surprises does not mean that they were not cutting edge at the time. Although I was a little disappointed that Julie’s role was mostly to scream. As the only female, I had hoped she would have a bit meatier of a role.”

Crowley scowled. “Typical misogynistic propaganda of the time. Even now it’s not great. Not one of mine, I swear.”

“I know dearest,” said Aziraphale, patting Crowley’s arm. “That’s not at all your style.”

Crowley hummed, still mildly disgruntled.

“Shall we adjourn to the shop and open a bottle of nice red?”

“You still have some there?”

“Oh yes. I don’t plan on moving all of it to the cottage. We still want a place to stay when we pop back into London, and you’re going to be selling your flat.”

“And you’ve developed an attachment for the building.”

“And I’ve grown rather fond of it,” confirmed Aziraphale with a sheepish grin.

“A glass or three would go down nicely, but the company is the best part.”

“Flatterer.”

~*~ ~*~

Crowley sauntered into the book shop, twirling his car keys around a finger. "Lunch, Ang—" He cut himself off after taking a good look around. “Umm… what?”

The partially empty bookshop wasn't a surprise, but the open boxes contained a variety of coloured objects, mostly orange and black, and were most definitely not books.

Aziraphale popped his head out of the back room. “Crowley, you’re here! Excellent. You can assist me with extracting my Halloween decorations from storage!”

“Angel.” He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’ve known you for over six thousand years, and never once have you decorated for Halloween. _Why_ do you have decorations in _storage_?"

"I couldn't resist!" Aziraphale's head disappeared again. "I mean look at these!" He popped back out again, holding a ghost and a bat on sticks. "Aren't they _spooooooky_?" He wiggled them in front of his face.

"Aziraphale, I am a huge fan of all things spooky.” Crowley chuckled. “I say this with love, but by no stretch of the imagination do either of those fit that description."

Aziraphale's smile fell. "Oh."

"But that's okay! Cute Halloween decorations are just as good as spooky ones!"

Brightening, Aziraphale said, "Ooooh I can do a haunted house!"

“That’s getting into the spirit. All the little kids with their cute little costumes.” Crowley grinned. “There can be games like bobbing for apples!”

“Not for kids!” Aziraphale scoffed. “A scary one for adults.” He shuddered. “I don’t want sticky fingers on my books.”

“That would be your worst nightmare, wouldn’t it?” Crowley laughed. “A room full of first editions, kids, and sweets!”

Aziraphale shuddered. “Just as well that my books are mostly all packed away for our move.” He tucked the ghost and bat under his arm and moved past Crowley into the centre of the bookshop. “Now, let’s see. I can put drapery there, and maybe a big foam spider over there—”

“Not to be a bore, but lunch?”

“Oh yes! Splendid idea.” Aziraphale placed his props delicately on a table and held out his arm. “Shall we get Thai or did you have something else in mind?”

~*~ ~*~

“He’s reading _fairy tales_ and buying cobweb material! There’s drapery everywhere in the shop now, making the bookcases look like giants under black sheets, and he’s just so damn _excited_ …” Crowley trailed off as he looked closer at a large umbrella leaf that seemed a touch paler than it’s usual vibrant green. “When I move, I’m leaving behind any of you that can’t cut it.” He growled and spritzed some more with water. “Should I tell him? I _can’t_ tell him. How do I _tell_ him that nobody is going to be scared of his haunted house?” he groaned.

_Spritz spritz_

“Monday, he was all excited about the large animatronic spider he’d ordered. He put it in the centre of the shop, hanging from the balcony, and set it up to go up and down at intervals.”

_Spritz spritz_

“Tuesday, he’d finished putting up the draping and blocked off the back and right side of his shop. Said he didn’t want people back there with his first editions.”

_Spritz spritz_

“Yesterday, he practically wrapped himself up in bandages trying to make a mummy.”

_Spritz spritz_

“And today he had me draping cobwebs.”

_Spritz spritz_

“Tomorrow is Halloween, and although his haunted house is ready, I don’t think he is.”

Crowley ran a hand through his cropped hair, sighed, and gave one last spray to a plant.

"I just hope he isn't too disappointed when people laugh instead of scream."

~*~ ~*~

“Welcome to my haunted house!” Aziraphale, dressed in a formal grey suit and purple scarf, greeted the group of teenagers at his doorstep. “Please don’t touch the walls. Entrance is just to the left here.” He gestured to an opening in the drapery. “Enjoy!”

Crowley sauntered up to the door. “The archangel _fucking_ Gabriel, eh? Definitely high on my list of top ten scariest people. Not sure that others would agree with me though.” He eyed a different group of teens who were exiting from the right side of the haunted house. They looked shaken, gave Aziraphale a wide berth, and hesitantly opened the main door before bolting through it into the blustery Halloween night.

“Have a wonderful night!” Aziraphale called after them. He turned back to Crowley, beaming. “I think people like my haunted house!” His shoulders wiggled a little with barely contained glee. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yeah, Angel, I rather think I would.” Crowley scratched his newly acquired moustache thoughtfully. “I don’t recall anything particularly frightening when I was helping you set up.”

“I added a bit after you left yesterday.” A high-pitched scream rent the air and Aziraphale unfocussed for a moment, his senses checking on the screamer. “Ah, he’s fine.” He re-focussed on Crowley and gave him a once-over. “Freddie Mercury? That brings back memories!”

“Oh yes, you were undercover, weren’t you?” Crowley chuckled. “We worked together on that one. I call it a win for humanity.”

“You would,” replied Aziraphale fondly. “Step right through here, my dear,” he held back a flap of drapery on the left of the store, “and enjoy yourself!”

Crowley’s eyes adjusted quickly in the semi-darkness and he quickly found the next passage.

A tomb opened and a mummy popped out comically, its arms hanging at a rakish angle. Crowley chuckled and moved on as the mummy retreated into its tomb.

The next surprise was a spider web, invisible in the dark, that brushed across his face. He grimaced; he should have remembered where he hung those!

The next area was silent until a baby’s babbling whisper could barely be discerned. Crowley shuddered, grinning. It was cute.

The rest of the haunted house continued in this way until he made his way back to the front.

“Hello,” said Aziraphale with a pleasant smile. “I hope you’ve had a pleasant time. Have a wonderful night!” He gestured towards the door.

Crowley frowned, offended. “I was hoping to stay for a bit…”

“Hello,” said Aziraphale with a pleasant smile. “I hope you’ve had a pleasant time. Have a wonderful night!” He gestured towards the door.

Understanding crossed Crowley’s face. “Oh, you clever angel!” He was impressed by Aziraphale's ingenuity and sneakiness, keeping a whole half of his haunted house a secret. Pushing through the door, cleverly disguised as the front entrance, he continued through the haunted house.

This part felt... off. His eyes couldn’t adjust to the clinging darkness. His tongue split, and he tasted the air, trying to scent what the difference was in this second half of the haunted house. When he finally placed it, his eyes widened; the air felt heavy with terror.

After several moments, his eyes could see faint shapes in the darkness. He swallowed hard, throat working to bring saliva to his mouth as he finally identified those shapes. He drew in a hissing breath. “Oh shiiiiiii-”

~*~ ~*~

A white-faced Crowley emerged shakily from the right side of the drapery. Aziraphale handed him a tea cup. “I was hoping for something a little stronger?”

“It’s whiskey.”

“You’re an angel.”

“I am.”

“Bastard.” Crowley took a sip, savouring the burn. “That second half was…” He gave himself a shake. “Colour me impressed. That simulacra of yourself with the fake door was particularly inspired.”

Aziraphale wiggled with pleasure at the unexpected praise. “I’m surprised it got to you. Big scary demon and all.”

“There are some things that frighten even me.” Crowley took another sip. “But if you tell anyone that, I will discorporate you.”

“Oh dear. A little too much fourteenth century?” A gleam in his eye betrayed his amusement. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Bastard.”

“Just enough of one to be worth knowing.”


End file.
